Five Minutes
by jossujb
Summary: Five minutes is a long time when you cannot find anything to say. Garak/Bashir, one-shot, sowahta post-series.


Name: Five Minutes

Written by jossujb

Fandom: ST: DS9 (somewhat post-series)

Pairing: Garak/Bashir (slash obviously)

Rating: Oh, how I hate all rating systems... It's a K. Stretching a bit, but K.

Summary: Five minutes is a long time when you cannot find anything to say.

Disclaimer: We know that Paramount owns everything, I don't, I'm just fooling around.

A/N: Mind I add again, that English is not my native. So there is a great possibility I make some mistakes along the way. Try not to be too disturbed.

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><p><strong>Five Minutes<strong>

Garak was a being who rarely was left speechless. Linguistic ability made him a surviver, the reason why he fought so long against all the odds was how he managed to find few fitting words in every situation threatening.

Lies, truths, truths covered in lies, or a lie in the centre of little truthful things making a good deception a great one. It didn't really matter _what_ he said, if it gave him time to to think. In dangerous situations time is essential to one's survival, and nothing gives time better than confusion caused by some witty wordings.

But now he was so empty of his recourses.

Some, obviously idealistic Humans, would say there was nothing to worry about, since it was only doctor Bashir he was facing. No threats, nothing to compromise his loyalty to the State. Nothing to put his life at risk. At this precious moment he was not a spy nor an exile, he was relatively free man and about to give his best regards to an only friend he considered worth having.

So.

Time for a final farewell.

Garak had never really given on of those, even if there were individuals he had thought as worthy of a few fairly explained excuses every now and then. And Garak hadn't really counted on doctor coming to see him off. They had said their goodbyes - in a way - already, even if they were not particularly sweet ones.

Five minutes to departure.

Garak was deliberately trying no to think how would his beloved Cardassia Prime look like after so little was left. Was there anything beautiful left? Buildings can be replaced, Garak soothed himself, but if the people were struck down entirely...

Bashir's eyes were wet. Garak had never quite understood Human's tendency to cry after they're fully grown.

Four minutes and Garak really couldn't find anything more to say. He couldn't even find the start!

When tears drained down Bashir's cheeks Garak sincerely wished doctor hadn't come. It'd have been better to left their feelings closeted, as something they could think of dearly and vaguely years later knowing there was probably nothing real on neither end. Tender longing on something they never quite had, it would have been ideal.

Now it's just... going to be _so_ sad. And Garak _despised_ it.

But Bashir was still weeping silently. Three minutes remained, and it was painfully obvious to Garak he's been a fool for a long time. He should have plucked this flower years ago. Surely it would have hurt sweet doctor less in the long run. To see him cry like that... it made Garak so uneasy and oddly hollow in heart.

Instead of being sensible Garak had encouraged a friendship. Doctor had been so naive to fall fo that. Even if wasn't as childish as he once was, he still was far from cynical. Bashir still held his idealism dear. Still as a lovely young man as ever. But no exiled Cardassian can afford friends...

Only Garak had been so miserably lonely. Of course he could've seduced doctor Bashir to share his bed and ease his forceful need for intimacy – it just wouldn't have been the same. Though hearts wouldn't have been anywhere near as shattered. Mildy disappointed perhaps.

Two minutes.

Why did it feel like he indeed was in a life threatening situation, where only words could save him? Garak couldn't really even smile, and he had smiled before. What an eternity five minutes is.

Unsure what to do Garak lifted his hand a bit, for a handshake or a Cardassian salute, anything his dearest friend could reply. In desperation Bashir took his gesture and rose the palm against his cheek. Garak couldn't move a muscle.

The moment you lost your ability to talk yourself out of risky situations is the moment you start dying, The Order had thought him that much. Still Bashir's cheek was warm and wet, surprisingly hoarse. Pushing a rough stubble Garak gathered, never been touched a Human man quite this way before. How alien did it feel, even Bashir's hair felt different than any Cardassian hair Garak had ever had the opportunity to feel. Cardassian hair was always tough, straight, slick to a touch. Quite different from a proper mammalian fur, so smooth and curly.

In a minute he was going to leave. Garak couldn't force his brain to move his hand even an inch anymore, but Bashir kept on brushing it against his face, his lips so soft, kissing Garak's fingertips. Only kisses they'll ever share.

So they parted without any words. Garak felt like he should have been professional enough to find one more delicate lie to comfort his doctor. He really did hate to feel Bashir's salty tears on his fingers, and to be fair for once in his lifetime, a lie would have comforted Garak himself as well. Make it seem like there were nothing to lose.

Somehow Garak knew now, when heading back to his ruined homeland, that his inability to speak to Bashir, when it most mattered, had indeed killed him inside.

**FIN**


End file.
